


A night with Kalindary

by ThisIsMyVoice



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Beer, Cary Agos at Kalinda's door, Cary's a glutton for punishment, Dancing, F/M, Pizza, Titanic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2666729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsMyVoice/pseuds/ThisIsMyVoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Literally a night with Kalindary. Forget everything about season four and five that you know, forget awkward sex scenes- and ' mutually assured destruction' . This is what Kalindary should be. set just a little while after he moves to Florrick Agos, add a little beer, a little pizza, a little titanic plus the lost valentine and voila!<br/>spaghetti proves it knows hydrogen and hydrogen kind of knows Spaghetti too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A night with Kalindary

When Kalinda Sharma opened the front door of her apartment to find Cary Agos, smiling crookedly and holding a six pack of beer in one hand and a box of pizza in the other she...didn't look exactly happy.

Her usual greeting of “Cary,” was slow and careful, questioning, as her dark, wary eyes took him and his provisions in. “Kalinda,” his voice was slightly teasing, a familiar smile on his lips but when she didn't return it – just silently watched him and waited – his smile faded away.

“I've never visited. You gave me your address and I've never visited so…” he lifted the pizza and beer like an answer.

“Mm,” his answer earned that little acknowledgement but she was still tense, still blocking the entrance, still guarding. “So you just randomly decided to drop by?” It wasn't a reprimand exactly and she didn't sound angry but there was something about the way she arched an eyebrow that made Cary feel like he should be scuffing a foot against the ground.

She was waiting but he… was hesitating. There were a thousand things he could say, both joking and serious, lies and truth. He could say it was because he missed her – he did.

Because he was curious about the inside of her apartment – whether it matched the Kalinda she let everyone else see or the other one (bright, mischievous, colorful) he was getting to know– he was, and no it didn't.

Because he was hoping he’d get lucky and had prepared a thousand nice things just in case that was secretly the key that opened Kalinda’s lock – but he…he really wasn’t, god he was…worn out and tired, melancholy in that way that accompanies those weird moods you can never quite figure out how you got into, and can never quite figure out how to get out of – he was here because he’d had a crap day, crappier than usual, with Diane and Alicia swelling up to fill the entire interior of Florrick- Agos until there was no room for his careful mistrust and well – meaning caution.

Every client seemed to have some crises just when things were going smoothly, there were giant potholes of logic in each one of his arguments and Robyn, sweet girl that she was, was trying her best but the fact of the matter was – no one could do Kalinda quite like Kalinda could and he… He missed her. (missed her dark eyes, and her lilting “Cary’s” , those hips swaying in short leather skirts; missed being able to lean back in his chair with his tie loose after a hell of a day and just be able to clink a beer bottle against hers and watch her smile that rare smile)

“If I said I missed you?” The words came before he could stop them - a toe dipped in the sea - testing the waters.

A shadow of a smile. A pause.

“I’d say that sounds about right.” She leaned against the doorjamb, tilted her head slightly and Cary knew it would take more to get him inside.

Kalinda Sharma was watching him with those large, deep, dark eyes that could drown a man and he wanted to say it, actually say it – _I missed you_ \- drop the beer and pizza and cup the back of her neck, stroke his fingers through the silky strands at the base, pull her to him - He wanted to kiss her.

Except she would flee at the slightest hint of anything overtly more than lust and she’d made it clear, that they would only happen once, so instead he told her a different truth, “I’m here because… it felt normal.”

In the three slow seconds that passed, he watched her expression soften just so, enough that he had to resist the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. There was the spark of an actual smile somewhere deep in her chocolate brown eyes. “You’re trying to be normal?” she murmured, considering him.

“Sure,” he said, and wished his voice didn't sound so husky, so affected “I like normal.”

She doesn't say the words, because that would have been too much of a commitment, a couple of large footsteps over the lines that she had so carefully drawn. But he could hear them anyway as she came forward, three slow steps and a warm hand against his chest, stretching upward to press a soft kiss against his cheek. Warmth flooded him from his head to his feet.

 _Welcome back to normal_.

“Come in.”

***

He had more fun than he’d had in weeks even though Kalinda’s apartment could best be described as spartan at best and with the exception of the TV she’d invested in (probably to watch the local news and keep up to date with all her acquaintances – both the guys robbing the bank and those trying to defend it) there was little in the way of entertainment. That’s why he’d brought The Last Valentine, the Titanic, Princess Diaries and our time in Paris. Kalinda’s face at the revelation of his collection was priceless and it was the first time he’d laughed, truly laughed in a long time.

 The fact that she humored him at all he took as an unspoken sign of the fact that she had missed him too.

All the lights were off except for a single golden lamp on a corner table and the glow of the TV when she switched it on. Kalinda was comfortable with sitting cross-legged on the floor in her grey sweatpants and black tank- t-shirt and he found that the casual look suited her, made her seem softer, more relaxed, more real. His bro code should be revoked because he thinks he prefers her like this, in sweatpants and a tank top, her hair in a loose ponytail, and no make-up in sight instead of in leathers and tight outfits; there’s no professional mask, no layers of cosmetic armor firmly in place.

His suit was ridiculously expensive (he’d splurged, decided to pamper himself a bit, after all he’d deserved it ) but it didn't stop him from folding his coat over the back of the chair, removing his tie, opening his cuffs and sliding to the ground with her. His thigh brushed her toes on the way down and he had to resist the urge to play with them; It was so weird, actually seeing her feet, pink on one side, honey – brown on the other, actual human feet! When he grinned and said as much she rolled her eyes at him, “of course I have feet Cary” and passed him the remote. “Pick” He chose the titanic, just to see her reaction.

That night, Cary Argos learned a number of things about Kalinda Sharma. He learned that she could eat just as many slices of pizza as him, which was a first among the girls he’d dated. (He’d divided the 12 slices into eight four and at Kalinda’s raised eyebrow and steady look amended them with a grin and an “okay, point taken.”) He learned that if he took a bite of pizza and the cheese stretched out and out till the strand snapped and dangled from his chin, he could make her laugh.

He learned that Jack could make her laugh too when he was talking back to rich snobs. And despite her careful detachment, when she was watching a movie, her feet gave her away, they tapped with that whirling Irish song in the titanic, and twitched impatiently from side to side in princes diaries 2 (she rolled her eyes more times than he could count in the beginning but even before Mia had met Nicholas, her feet had stilled, and she was actually watching. Each time a scene popped up he watched her feet and they didn’t disappoint.

He learned that she could watch the titanic twice in a row, just like him. She grinned whenever the drawing scene came on though that probably had more to do with the sight of Rose's bare chest than any overt sentimentality on her part. At first he’d made a show of covering her eyes and evading her swats at his hand until he got a laughing, “Cary, c’mon I’m missing it.”

The second time they just clinked beer bottles in mutual admiration and Cary remembered late nights at the office and almost being friends and couldn’t resist a smile.

He learnt that Kalinda had a soft spot for love and friendship and family and at the very end of the lost Valentine, if he pretended to be so focused on the TV he couldn’t see her, she’d quickly wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. (When they kept coming he handed her his handkerchief; He didn’t look. Kalinda hesitated; long enough that he thought she was going to say she didn’t need it but then took it from his hand. Her thank you was in the brush of her fingers; his you’re welcome, in the beating of his heart; Their understanding in the silence. She dabbed at her eyes and returned it to him. He tucked it into his pocket. Cary smiled. They continued watching.)

He learnt that if he got up and reached for her hands, during the final scene of the Lost Valentine with old Caroline Thomas swaying in Lucas Thomas’s arms, she’d give him a ‘look’…but then she’d give him her hands and if he started swaying along in her near empty apartment…she’d sway with him. He learnt that that when he spun her out he could get a smile, and if he dipped her, he’d get a chuckle and that there was something about dancing quietly in the darkness that made it okay for her to gently lay her head against his shoulder. He didn't know how long they’d been swaying except at some point the movie was over, the TV was off and all that was left was the light from the lamp.

Kalinda raised her head to look him in the eyes and he felt the world around him slow, his heart thudding in his chest. One…two…three…and her eyes were softening but he was hurriedly stepping back because there was something about Kalinda Sharma that made him want to try no matter how much it hurt and tonight, after everything, rejection would hurt a little more than he could take. His heel caught the edge of the table. As he stumbled Kalinda’s hand shot out to steady him and then they were both going down.

She landed on top of him and after a stunned second they both began laughing. She lifted sparkling brown eyes to his and pronounced him unbelievable.

He found, as he tucked the silky strands of loose hair behind her ear, that being with Kalinda Sharma could be as easy as breathing.

He learned that if their eyes met, and despite himself, he reached upwards to kiss her, after their lips held for several long, delicious, terrifying seconds … Kalinda Sharma would kiss him back.

***

He never planned to stay the night. She never let him.

They were lying in bed together; sweat just beginning to cool on their bodies; blissful, silent, sated. He was tracing a finger absently over her belly-button looking thoughtful. She let him, for a little while and then lightly smacked his hand because his finger was ticklish and she wasn’t a toy. He grinned at her, unaffected, and leaned over to press a kiss to her belly instead, soft, warm...tender. The unexpected gesture caught Kalinda off- guard, caused a flutter she wasn’t expecting. He felt her stomach tense under his mouth and he lifted his head to catch her eyes in the darkness, registered the surprise and the quietness that had gathered around her and smiled, and kissed her stomach again.

And again…

and she really should…tell him to stop because he’s…breaking the rules and her defenses are down and he’s not supposed to make her feel this much but she…likes Cary’s warm mouth, likes his lips on her skin, likes Cary.

So she closes her eyes and lets him kiss where he wants, for once not dictating the nature of the kiss, not pushing him away or pulling him closer – He kisses everywhere, Soft… Unhurried…. Slow.

Sex was easy and entire worlds separated sex from love and needs from feelings but Cary was blurring all her lines.

This Cary, the Cary that laughed with her in the office, pulled her down and covered her with his body when gunshots sounded, that admitted that she was in his head, that impulsively came over to watch romantic movies she had actually kind of liked, that silently offered her a handkerchief when she teared up and didn’t make a big deal about it, that wanted to know her, that would drift off to sleep beside her if she let him, who grinned and leaned in lightening fast to kiss her cheek before hurrying off into the night when she didn't, whose lips were creating warm imprints against her skin, comforting in the darkness, who woke up in the middle of the night to dress and drive all the way back to his apartment because he knew she disliked attachments, the Cary she once worked with and sometimes slept with and still resisted getting to know…This Cary... This Cary was doing strange things to her heart.

He moves up to lay those same gentle kisses along her neck and she finds her fingers in his hair, decides she likes the feel of it against her hand, catches hints of his faded cologne, decides that she likes that too – rich, and honeyed but not overpowering – thinks that it kind of makes her want to bite him. So she does and Cary jerks with an “ow,” but he’s chuckling when he leans back to rest on his elbows above her. “Kinky” he says huskily and she’s returning his grin, right up until the moment that he reaches up to tuck a stray strand of silky black hair behind her ear. His fingers leave a trail of heat she can feel, all the way from her head to her feet.

And her smile fades away.

And his flickers too.

“You’re a glutton for punishment Cary.” She whispers. It’s not a condemnation, just the truth.

He doesn't deny it, because where she’s concerned, yeah…yeah he is.

The nights almost over he knows, its past midnight and whatever magic gave him Kalinda is fading fast. He can feel her already slipping away, erecting those walls that he so briefly broke through tonight. He shifts over onto his side before she can ask him to and watches as she slides slender legs over the edge of the bed and sits up. Her hair has come loose from its usual up do and swings down all the way to the middle of her shoulder blades. Its longer than he thought, with moonlight highlights that look like liquid silver and suddenly he wants so badly to touch, to reach for her and actually find her, to pull her back to him, to keep her. Then she’s standing up and tying her hair back into its usual efficient knot and heading towards the bathroom and the dream slips through his fingers like water.

He has to do something because once the door closed, there’d be no getting this night back. And with Kalinda, he never knew whether each time, would be the very last time.

“Can I stay over” he murmurs it with his head on the pillows, eyes on the ceiling and feels her halt in the darkness, still in mid-step; feels everything around her pause, even the air, feels the weight his question comes with suddenly pushing down on his heart.

An eternity passes before she murmurs the “If you want.” And then she’s heading into the bathroom and the door shuts with a ‘click’.

Even though she didn't turn around once, Cary Agos breathes a sigh of relief and buries his face in the pillow with a smile.

***

By the time she’s done, he’s already asleep, the covers only halfway on him, moonlight playing across the muscles of his back, his soft rhythmic breathing the only sound in the room apart from the ticking of her clock and the steady beat of her heart.

It comes as a staggering surprise, just how much she likes Cary Agos in her bed, even when he was only sleeping.

It’s more than a little discomfiting that sliding in beside him feels so nice, so... normal and she rests on her back, with her hands behind her head, torn.

“why not”

“Because you want more, and I can’t give you more.”

She’d been right then and she was right now.

Donna had wanted to be first place in Kalinda’s life (she couldn't be, Kalinda was first place in Kalinda’s life), wanted someone to share her life with, to play happy families with; she wanted domesticity and intimacy and Kalinda had done all of that before – the idea of being caught in the same trap made her skin crawl – but it wasn't…it wasn't that she didn't want to give _some_ of it but Donna and all the others wanted it all. Cary wanted all of her too, he just pretended like he didn't and she…couldn't do that because that was the opposite of self- preservation. It was emotional and unwise and left her vulnerable. And all that crap about trust was all very well and good but humans are flawed creatures at best, base animals at worst, and she, she didn't want to give all of herself to anyone person. She wouldn't. S

She never slept immediately at night; Years of living with Nick and his unpredictable brutality had taught her the hard way that she couldn’t afford the price of falling asleep before he did (it could mean a gun, or knife, trailing down her cheek, Nick’s lazy smile in the darkness because he liked her fear and no meant yes and ‘stop’ meant faster.)

She used to stare at the ceiling, lying on her back and waiting for sleep to draw her into its soft embrace. Now she stares at Cary.

She trails her eyes over his face, bathed in the moonlight spilling from the one window in her room. His eyes, his nose, the lines of his jaw …she thinks handsome is too hard a word to describe him, thinks beautiful is more accurate, then imagines his face if she told him that and grins in the darkness. 

That night, Kalinda Sharma learnt many things too. For one in the moonlight, when Cary Agos slept, his face softened, took on an almost surreal quality, a tranquil beauty that made her want to reach up and touch him, make sure he was still there, still real. It’s a pull that is hard to ignore yet she indulges herself only once, letting the back of her hand rest for a moment against his cheek. she’s careful not to caress, not to do anything that would suggest she is more attached than she should be, only lets herself feel his warm breaths tickling the skin of her hand.

Then she is pulling it back and turning away from him to close her eyes.

She learns Cary Agos sleeps like a baby - all soft, hushed snores and deep unbroken slumber. She, wakes up a half dozen times with half- remembered dreams and haunting nightmares. When she does, she feels like nudging him, just to see what would happen, just because he looked too peaceful. She did once, and he released a soft stream of unintelligible murmuring, shifted, and went back to sleep. She learnt that if she keeps worrying him, a gentle prod here, a gentle poke there, a slight push with her foot, Cary’s murmurs will rise to a whine and he will swat ineffectually around him as if to hit away the offending disturbance. She covers her mouth with her hand and laughs quietly in the darkness, but after the first few times she doesn't worry him again.

The third thing Kalinda Sharma learnt was that he had a habit of reaching for her in his sleep. A dozen times in the night, she’d find he’d stretched out a hand to her, resting across her waist, or a leg, partially covering one of hers. Sometimes he’d shifted several inches so that the entire front of his body was pressed against her back. And always there was this rush of warmth she had to temper when she noticed it. She would detach from him, carefully, laying a hand back on his pillow, a leg back on the bed, rolling all of him over if necessary. Then after a glance to make sure she hadn't disturbed him, she’d lay back down and close her eyes, trying to get back to sleep... until the next time another part of Cary was touching another part of her.

It turned out Cary asleep was just as persistent as Cary awake. At 4am, a drowsy Kalinda Sharma gave up. When he rolled over and wrapped his arms around her, she let him. When he tangled their legs and he placed his head in the hollow between her face and neck (Cary’s head, heavy, warm) she didn't fight it. She told herself that having Cary Agos sleep over was a nuisance; she really should have just kicked him out like she always did.

She could feel his soft rhythmic breaths, every line of him pressed to every curve of her. His cologne must have been ridiculously powerful because honey and linen are all she can smell. It wasn't cuddling, she made it very clear with herself, it was self- preservation otherwise she’d never get any sleep, murder Cary and go to jail. Her justification comforted her enough that she drifted off again.

Never -mind that when he’d moved, she’d shifted to accommodate him, or that when he laid his head against her neck, she'd pressed closer to him; never-mind that when he’d put his arms around her…she’d tangled her fingers with his. That he was holding her close only because she was letting him... That whether she admitted it to herself or not... Kalinda Sharma didn't want Cary Agos to let go.

See, she didn't want to give all of herself to one person...she couldn't.

But she could give him bits and pieces. A night, a smile, bodies swaying softly in the cool dark of a living room.

She could give him this day, and then the next. 

And while he slept, she could let him hold her, just for a little while. 

And Kalinda Sharma would hold him back.

For tonight, this one night, he could have normal.

He could have her.

 

THE END

 

 

 


End file.
